It is Wednesday. So many hurdles behind us. The view from here is rolling and soft, down and away. Small flecks of white star the green. There will be raggedness to it, of course, up close, in the moment of choosing where to plant your foot, but from here it is all unrolling, unfurling, a soft exhale.

I am glad of feeling myself intact again, the pulleys and strings. Glad of mobility and how the flow makes way for itself.